Any Way But Lightly
by eden alice
Summary: Maybe there are worse things than death. A Liarla story.
1. Chapter 1

Any Way But Lightly

He'd pissed off God. It was the only explanation. Maybe he had not paid enough attention in one of those church services his parents had dragged him to as a child. Maybe God had not forgiven him for his lies and adultery, maybe the big man was just pissed at his damn indecisiveness.

So he was not a saint but this was just not fair, not when he was feeling so hopeful, not when they finally stood a chance. She did not deserve this even if he did. He had never thought God could be so spiteful, he was not sure if he could believe in a higher power any more.

He was finally together with Carla; he had divorced Maria and released a breath he did not know he had been holding. People had even started to refer to them as 'Liam and Carla' in that way that made them sound inseparable, like they had been together for an eternity. Things were not perfect, they were living in Carla's flat for the time being and it reminded him far too much that this is his brother's widow. There was the restraining order against Carla's ex fiancé and business partner. He still had a very volatile relationship with his ex wife and he worries about her letting him be in his child's life once it is born, but there was hope.

For a long time he was angry that Carla had not told him there was something wrong in the beginning, he hated that there were still lies between them. And he had been angry at himself, angry because he had missed her headaches, that he had overlooked the way she was tired all the time. When he had started to get concerned she started an argument, their first since they became an official couple.

Two nights later he was sleeping restlessly on an oddly humid night, there had been a thunder storm earlier making the air was thick with heat and the bedcovers were rapped around his ankles. He had awoken when Carla's weight left the bed, listened as her bear feet padded towards the bathroom. All remnants of sleep had fallen away when he heard a sob escape from the other room.

He had found her there, shaking and pale, her nose bleeding heavily. He had instinctively stopped the flow of the blood (he remembered being distantly terrified that it would never stop) and cleaned her up all the while whispering comforting words to try to ease Carla's skittishness.

She had promised him then, that she would get herself checked out. He had offered to take her but had received a cool stare in return that told him she was quite capable of looking after herself. He had always been equally struck and intimidated by her independence.

Four days later Carla called him at work and told him to meet her at hospital in the oncology department. She'd hung up before he could ask any questions; he spent the entire journey silently praying. God did not listen.


	2. Chapter 2

The air conditioning made the hairs on his arms stand on end, it was just too cool to be comfortable, and it made him want to run even more. He felt like he was walking through a completely alien environment, anticipation heavy in the pit of his stomach, limbs light with flight or fight instinct and he kept seeing the ghost of his brother hooked up to machines and unresponsive.

For some reason the hospital had been modelled on a maze, every corridor looking just as shiny and impersonal. No one seemed to be able to give him clear directions to the Oncology department but he had found the gift shop all by himself. He had been in such a rush to get to the hospital it felt as if time had slowed into a thick sludge around him. Now he was struck with the need to bring offerings like a worshiper laying his sacrifice at the feet of a cold statue of his beautiful goddess. It was only polite.

He stood over the flowers with an overly critical eye considering he did not have a clue when it came to foliage. They all seemed pitiful and drooping and they make him want to cry. Cards all came with messages that did not seem to apply to his situation. 'Gods love is with you in your time of need' or the simple 'Get well soon'. Neither seemed appropriate, he had never discussed Carla's stance on organised religion but he knew she would roll her eyes at the cutesy message. It was the kind of card that an overly religious aunt would send, not that Carla even had an aunt to be overly religious. And how could he wish her well when he was not even sure she was ill.

Of course an abrupt phone call and a particularly scary hospital department were clues but he was not going to think the worse till it was damn well spelt out to him.

At the end of his deliberation he left the gift shop clutching an overly stuffed animal to his chest. The protection it offered when he remembered the desperate tone to his girlfriend's clipped words over the phone stopped him feeling too silly.

Things were finally looking up as he finally found a sign that pointed him in the right direction. A waiting room soon opened up in front of him like the sea parting. It was empty apart from the woman he'd raced to see. She was slumped on a bench, back against the wall. Waiting for his arrival he realised only the blank angles that made up her face did not seem to be looking forward to seeing him. Her hair was pulled into a casual ponytail at the base of her neck and she looked tired but not ill, she looked just as beautiful and healthy as she had the day before and there was no way in his mind that there was anything wrong with her.

She stood when he called her name all solid and slight as he performed a quick inventory in his mind, all limbs present and accounted for. He wanted to hug her, he should hug her but within her stiffness there was a warning not to get too close.

"I, uh, got this for you. Thought you could call him Barry, Barry the bear." He grinned at her trying not to let his worry show too much but his cheeks hurt like his mouth might split open.

She took the bear with a small tight smile in return clearly more for his benefit but he happily took it as acknowledgment of his present buying skills. He was almost able to overlook the alarming lack of a sarcastic comment. Carla was never one for silence even if he wished she'd shut up sometimes.

"How are you?" He dreaded the reply but he was going to spontaneously combust if he did not find out what this was all about soon.

"Well I guess that's the million dollar question. I feel fine actually. In desperate need of a large drink, but fine." With a barely audible sigh her mood appeared to switch, suddenly as open and serious as he had ever seen her.

With a tug on his hand she had them both quickly sitting on hard plastic chairs. She let of his hand before he could tighten his grip.

"I just got some test results back, Liam." It was almost like she was talking to a child and for the first time he did not find in condescending. He felt like Alice lost in a barren wonderland.

"Apparently there's a tumour on the wall between my sinus and cerebrum. I have cancer." Something that could have been a smile or a grimace pulled at the corners of her mouth. She spoke the words firmly as if she had been repeating them in her head for the entire time it took him to reach her.

He was drowning, every nerve in his body sung with electricity telling his brain to freak the fuck out. The dreaded c word circled around his head and he struggled to hear anything else. He frowned with the physical effort to keep his thoughts processing at a vaguely normal speed. Still too many questions to ask.

"And they're sure? Sure this is not going to be another NHS mistake?"

A look of anger cast a shadow over her eyes but it passed as she stared at him, turned into something fond and sympathetic that would not be out of place on his mother's face.

She reached for a thin paper folder that was sitting by her side; he had not noticed it till now. With great care Carla removed the contents of the folder yet her eyes never quite focused on the x-ray inside. She handed it to him without a word; it was like she was pretending it did not exist.

"I had trouble believing it myself so I asked if I could keep this, not that I want to look at it ever again. That's my brain, Liam, and that stupid little blob is trying to kill me."

He held the sheet up trying to find the right light and he could see it, a grey ball that surely could not be big enough to hurt anyone. It all seemed to separate from the little world he lived in.

"At least I finally have physical evidence that I do have a brain so I win that argument." Her voice was thick with tears and his head snapped back to look at her.

Her eyes were wide and watery, her breathing hard with the effort of holding herself together. He had never felt so selfish, she must be terrified and the idiot he was could barely process the information.

He pulled her tightly to him running his hands over her back trying to ignore how slim she felt beneath his palms. "You'll be okay, we'll be okay. We can get through this."

She pulled back enough to look him in the eyes. She still had not cried a tear. "I really want to believe you." There was something in her tone that told him that would be impossible.


End file.
